Fiction

The air tasted like rust and regret.

“Greetings, loyal subjects...I understand there is some grumbling amongst you regarding the state of your lives.” The king addressed the large crowd that had gathered in front of his royal palace.

The wind brushed across her cheeks, tender. It fluttered her hair and made it stand upright, soft, as the sun caressed its fingers across her arm, both warm and compassionate.

When I was very little, my Mom took me on a trip to Arizona. She was strong back then, a long-time hiker just like my dad was when the two still knew each other.

The pressure on your chest weakens as the craft gradually decelerates to a halt, and you find all the mass has been pulled out of you, leaving only your volume.

When I first got switched on, I became the world’s first half-human, half-robot teacher. My mind stretched into every database of human knowledge. I could teach anything.

By the time the streetlights flickered on, the cul-de-sac was already empty. Pumpkins lay sideways on porches, their candles out, their smiles melted. Gwen stood at the end of the street, costume wrinkled, pillowcase empty.

It followed him like a curse. Every step he took, the tick tick ticking of his heart echoed in the chamber of his ears, trailing him in the hallways, threatening to expose all that he was.

The clock is broken, it stopped ticking ten years ago, stopped counting how much time had passed. It is an old grandfather clock, wood of oak, and sculpted to perfection.

“I could sleep ‘til eleven tomorrow,” I said, throwing myself across her bed, sprawling on her star-patterned comforter. Mary took a seat at her vanity, and I could see her eyes roll on her blue-painted face.

I awake on the floor in the dark. All around me is emptiness, inexplicable emptiness. The thick blackness pushes against my eyeballs, digging its thumbs into my skull. Disoriented, I scrabble against the floor, a thin and matted carpet.